Second Nature
by eton blue
Summary: Marcus lost his mate a long time ago. Bella just happens to resemble her. A dark romance between a vampire with a dead heart and Edward's clumsy lamb. Told from Bella's perspective.
1. Chapter 1

I was sure that I was about to die.

That wasn't exactly uncommon for me. Hanging out with vampires and werewolves had more downsides than perks, prospective death being one of them. It's amazing how abstract that seemed until this particular instant.

My knees knocked. I never knew what that expression meant, much less that it was literal. Here I was, an ocean away from Forks, watching Edward plead his case in front of three ancient vampires.

_Edward_. The word alone made my heart stop working properly. _Arrhythmia_, I thought, remembering biology classes that I would probably never attend again. So there was a bright side to dying after all. I'm damn sure that heaven doesn't make its occupants look at stages of mitosis under a microscope.

Gallows humour. I didn't think I was that kind of girl.

Even after all these months of waiting and crying and feeling the worst kind of _empty,_ my Edward still looked like salvation. Defiant and defeated at the same time. I chanced a look at Alice for comfort, but her face was grim. Wide-eyed. She was probably seeing a macabre future, and trying to hide it.

The man in the middle throne spoke, his voice so cheerful that I flinched.

"My, my, Edward," he said, glancing over at me. "Who do we have here?"

He laughed lightly as he approached me, and I found that I couldn't look away from his face. It was like old parchment, or chalky stone, completely different from the pale perfection of the Cullens. He _looked_ old. He felt evil.

I could hear my heart in my ears, pounding erratically. He could probably hear it too.

The vampire in black circled me like a cat.

"Extraordinary," he said, those milky eyes eager and red.

I had been warned about his gift, the ability to read minds with just a touch, but he hadn't even tried to grab my hand. His gaze was all over—looking at my face, my hair, the sorry slouch I called posture—and he seemed fascinated.

Maybe it had been a long time since he looked at a living human up close.

Maybe I looked like an unusually delicious snack.

He stepped away from me, still studying me with that magnetic, bloody stare.

It was only then that I noticed his suit, elegant and modern beneath his robes. I nearly laughed at that observation—the monsters had fashionable taste. Of course they did. Vampires and their good looks. Just one of the factors shaping their stunning arrogance.

That thought surprised me. I _liked_ the Cullens. I always thought _nice things_ about them. I was a Good Girl, and being rude to my boyfriend's family, even in my own head, was not something I could do comfortably.

My attention snapped back to Aro violently when he addressed me.

"My lovely Isabella, I cannot tell you what a strange creature you are," he said, purring.

I could hear Edward growl, but he was smart enough to remain still. That guard beside him—built like a bear, with a smile like Emmett's—was watching him closely.

"I get that a lot," I admitted, and immediately bit my tongue.

_That's right, mouth off to a vampire_, my brain chastised me. _How many death wishes do you have?_

"I have no doubt," he grinned. "May I have the honour?"

His hand was extended.

What the hell. I had nothing to lose.

I curled my fingers in his, and waited for a sigh of recognition, some response to the undoubtedly banal contents of my mind. This man was three thousand years old—I'd bet everything I owned that he wouldn't be fascinated with me the same way Edward was.

Aro dropped my hand as though it was made of molten iron.

"Oh, my dear, you are simply a marvel," he said. "I almost feel inclined to forgive Edward his misbehaviour because it gave me the opportunity to meet you."

I didn't quite believe him, this tall, beautiful ancient that loomed over me, but I dared to hope and breathe again.

He returned to his throne, taking the same graceful, floating steps. There was nothing youthful or unpolished about him, and I was struck by the realization that Edward was such a teenager beside this Master Aro, so gawky and unformed. Even his hair, black and flowing, seemed so much more appropriate for a vampire than my former boyfriend's copper spikes.

My musing was interrupted by the white-haired vampire in the throne on the right.

"No matter how compelling this _human_ is," he said, "she is a liability. A breaker of our laws."

This man too was painfully beautiful. I couldn't tell whether he was old or young, but his white hair was a sharp shock and there was something fierce as fire behind his eyes. Nonetheless, he terrified me. That voice was pitiless.

"Peace, Caius," Aro soothed. "I believe that I need Marcus' opinion before we can decide upon a course of action."

I knew that there was a third man beside the other two. Counting to three, even though I was terrified and sort of abysmal at math on the best of days, wasn't beyond me. He had a way of blending in, of fading into shadow. I didn't realize that I hadn't even looked at him properly.

His age was impossible to guess—between twenty-five and fifty definitely, though that was all I could say— but I suddenly noticed that this Marcus looked terribly sad. As though his heart had been torn from his chest, leaving a gaping, unhealing wound, and yet he was ordered to keep on living. For an instant, I forgot that he was a murderer and only wanted to run to him and tell him that I _knew_. That I understood how awful it was.

That I had jumped off of a cliff to find some sort of relief for the pain he felt.

Beneath the raw agony, he was breathtaking. Even the bulk of his black robes could not hide that he was tall and slim, graceful as a cat. Though his face was all angles, I thought I saw something kind—or at least less uncaring than his brothers—in those eyes.

I pinned all of my hopes on him.

He raised his head a little, dark hair falling away from his features, and looked at me, as though he had pinned all of his hopes on me as well.

_Starved._

_Demanding._

_Terrible._

I didn't understand.

I could barely breathe.

Marcus touched Aro's hand for a moment, and then withdrew. His gaze did not fall away from me.

"So, it is decided," Aro said, with nothing sweet or happy in his voice. It was iron now, and I could sense his guards stiffening around me, ready to obey their master's orders, and vicious as wolves. "Miss Isabella will remain with us."

Edward moved wildly, as though he couldn't decide where to aim—at the guards surrounding him, at Aro who had issued the condemnation, at Caius who agreed with it, or perhaps at Marcus, who had seemingly done nothing at all. The noise of Felix shoving him onto stone was deafening, and then there was _screaming_.

That would be Jane's work, though I was sure she hadn't moved from her corner.

The room was so ornate. All granite and sunlight.

That was my last thought before the blackness swallowed me whole.

-oOo-

I wasn't awake, really. Instead, I was caught in that fuzzy dream-state between unconsciousness and getting up, but I felt too warm and stiff to move. Even opening my eyes seemed like an uncomfortable prospect.

I could feel heavy fabric beneath me. Warm and rich, like the upholstery of some priceless antique couch. Covering me was a fur-lined cloak.

_Marcus wore it_, I thought, and wondered how my sleep-addled brain had come to that conclusion. _And then he used it to cover the clumsy, fainting human,_ my mind added, ever the sarcastic pessimist.

From another room, I could hear echoes of a conversation.

"The resemblance is uncanny," Aro was saying. His voice was grave.

"To your sister? I thought so," Caius said. "But I wouldn't give that too much consideration. The world is full of girls with dark hair."

"_No." _There was so much uncertainty in Marcus' tone that his words fell like stone. "She is not my Didyme reborn. She cannot be."

I didn't recognize the name he mentioned, but putting the pieces together, even in my current state, wasn't difficult. He had loved her. She had—died? Vanished?

"Perhaps not," Aro agreed. "But surely you are interested."

"I will not _mate_ with some mortal girl who happens to look like my wife. Her memory is worth more to me than that," Marcus snarled.

Something cracked. Maybe he threw something or crushed it with angry hands.

"Who said anything about mates?" Caius demanded. I could practically hear him rolling his eyes. "Keep the human for a while. She's young, and not entirely unfortunate looking. Her blood is sweet. Surely even you can find the pleasure in that."

The fear returned.

I didn't know what the Volturi did with their humans but Caius' casual description made it sound as though I'd be some kind of pet, a concubine to a vampire driven mad by grief. What else could he be, if he thought that I was some copy of his dead wife?

Maybe, if I was lucky, he wouldn't kill me on purpose.

I could feel bile rising in my stomach. Clenching my teeth, I did my best not to vomit, keeping my face carefully buried in the cushions.

I didn't belong to myself anymore, it seemed, but to _him_.

Thinking about it without screaming, but I couldn't do that. I'd betray myself, and I didn't think that the Volturi were in a mood for mercy.

Instead, I closed my eyes tightly and waited for sleep, which came blissfully fast.

-oOo-

The next time I opened my eyes, I saw sunlight. It danced through panes of glass onto the pretty floral covers around me, patterned and pale blue. The last time I had seen fabric like this was in movies about Marie Antoinette's France. I was cocooned and cozy, made lazy by enough sleep.

It was only when I stretched that it dawned on me.

_I was naked. _

Completely undressed beneath the sheets.

I covered my face with my hands, not knowing whom I was hiding from as a vivid blush painted my entire body an embarrassing shade of scarlet. Who had done this? What kind of vampire had the patience to strip me without leaving a single bruise? _Why?_

I didn't want to know the answers.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: I've caught the MarcusBella bug. They're interesting together, and I always wondered whether Marcus spared Bella's life in Volterra because he thought that she resembled Didyme. _

_Let me know what you think about this chapter, pretty please. _


	2. Chapter 2

I looked around the room—I wasn't ready to call it _my _room after waking up in it so suddenly—with my mouth open. It was bigger than some of the apartments that I had lived in with Renee, and so much prettier. The tall windows let the light in, and everything was decorated in shades of powder blue and white. It was like being trapped in a bowl made of the sky—and that's when I realized that my habit of thinking in similes definitely wasn't useful.

I should have been terrified, not descriptive.

Like the proverbial cat, curiosity got the best of me. Wrapping a sheet around myself, and trying not to think about the being-naked thing, I crept out of bed. The floor was white marble, and very cold beneath my feet.

Little by little, I walked around the room, breathless. The desk in the corner was beautiful, carved into ornate swirls. I guess the Volturi were whimsical or impractical; instead of pens and a computer, an hourglass that looked a few centuries old rested on its surface. The dresser was low, the kind you sat in front of while putting on makeup or brushing your hair. I opened its drawers to find cosmetics in sleek containers, so different from the drugstore brands I bought under duress.

There was a book case too, and I knelt in front of it so fast that I marvelled how I didn't trip while getting there. Some of the books were in Latin and Greek, but the rest looked like first editions of modern classics. I couldn't help but reach for them, although my fingers shook.

_You're clumsy_, my brain insisted. _If anyone can wreck a book, you can_.

Just when my hands were about to touch the spine of _The Picture of Dorian Gray,_ I heard a cough behind me. I jumped up, smashing my head against the decorative scrollwork on top of the case, and turned to face my visitor, cursing under my breath.

There'd be a bruise on my hairline in a few minutes.

Marcus was staring at me. He had discarded his heavy black robes, instead wearing dark pants, a neat jacket and a slightly unbuttoned shirt. It was a wonderful look—youthful and commanding in equal parts.

I was admiring his _clothes._ Oh God, what was wrong with me? But I guess it was better than admiring him.

He looked—confused. I didn't blame him. In three thousand years, he probably hadn't run into many girls wearing bedsheets and giving themselves concussions while trying to say 'good morning'.

"I suppose you did not see the note I left for you," he said. There was an undercurrent of authority running through those words, as though he was used to being obeyed. He probably was, I decided, and tried not to think about the fact that his voice made me blush.

He dazzled me. That was all.

I shook my head.

He breathed an impatient little sigh and I flinched, looking at those bright red eyes. With every instant, I was more aware of the fact that so little separated my body from his—a little fabric, held up by my increasingly sweaty hands. He could probably hear my heartbeat from where he was.

"Bathe and dress," he said curtly. "Your presence is required."

I was going to ask more questions, but those red eyes and the knowledge that I was only alive because he was merciful made me bite my tongue.

"The bath is there," he said, indicating a closed door to my right. "And there are clothes in the wardrobe. You will be receive more—"

It might have been a mistake, but the word hung in the air, followed by an unsaid _if you live long enough to need them. _

I nodded frantically, wondering whether I should excuse myself.

"I will wait here," he said. "Hurry."

I nearly ran to the closet, plucking a dress at random. There was underwear stacked precariously on the top shelf, and I grabbed panties and a bra before going into the bathroom.

Behind me, I could hear Marcus settling in a chair, long fingers tapping on the armrest.

-oOo-

The bathroom was gorgeous as the other room, a vision of white stone and fluffy blue towels, but I didn't have time to think about that. Instead, I ran the bathwater and picked a few bottles of something that I hoped was shampoo and conditioner.

While I washed, I realized that I couldn't chase Marcus out of mind. His little gestures, the way he had of tangling his fingers together, were beautiful. Elegant. Impossible to forget.

That was strange. He wasn't particularly handsome. Up close, I saw that his skin was powdery and his eyes were covered with a film—like cataracts, I decided, recalling pictures from that biology textbook I was convinced I'd never see again. Even though he probably hadn't been that old when he was turned, grief had left marks on his expressions and the formal way he had of speaking.

But when he looked at me—there was electricity beneath my skin. I could feel my blood rushing through me, and growing heat.

I hadn't felt like this before, not even with Edward. With him, I knew I was safe. With Marcus, there was real danger.

I was an idiot, but I liked it.

-oOo-

When I finished dressing, I looked in the mirror. The midnight blue dress made my skin look dramatically pale, and hid how skinny I had become over the past few months. Still, I wasn't pretty enough to fit in among vampires.

My hair was still wet, and I tied it into a bun, before rushing out of the bathroom to face Marcus.

When he saw me, he stiffened. In an instant, he was by my side, not even bothering to move like a human being. His hands, broad and heavy, landed on my arms. I expected to flinch, but the touch was gently firm. For a while, he stroked the skin of my upper arms before taking my palm into his and tracing the lines almost tenderly.

I was flushed. I could tell that my entire face was pink, that this simple touch was doing things to my heart and my body that I didn't recognize. Reasoning with myself, I tried to remind myself that I loved Edward, that a monster was holding my hand, that he didn't even want me, but a woman who was long dead.

Worst of all, he wasn't touching me as though he desred me. This was just the reacton of a man who hadn't felt someone's skin beneath his fingers for a long time. It was a sensation, not a seduction.

I didn't understand why that upset me.

"That was alarmingly quick," he said, finally dropping my hand. "I did not intend for you to rush as much as you did. From what I have seen, you have a near fatal lack of grace, and I am certain that speed would only exacerbate it."

"I'm—I'm fine," I said, halting.

"You look—" he stumbled, as though unsure what to say. It wasn't my beauty causing that stutter; I knew that immediately. It had probably been a long time since he told a woman she was attractive. "You look presentable," he decided, and I grinned a little.

"Your breakfast is there," he continued, gesturing to a heavy silver tray set on a small table between two chairs.

Not bothering to be courteous, I quickly sat down, picking up a bun and unscrewing the small container of raspberry jam beside it. At this point, I was too hungry for courtesy; my stomach had announced itself by growling loudly.

"Isabella, calm down. You will choke," he said firmly, resuming his seat.

I tried to measure my bites, but the roll and jam were delicious and I hadn't eaten in way too long. I hadn't enjoyed it in an even longer time.

"Where is my presence required...Master Marcus?" It felt strange, referring to him by his title, but I thought it was prudent. He wasn't _safe_, I reminded myself. The Cullens did me a disservice, teaching me that vampires weren't monsters.

His nod of approval reassured me.

"You will watch Edward's judgement, and that of Alice. I do not think that Aro will ask for your opinion on the matter, but my brothers and I wish to have you present," he said, as though the thought of me watching him condemn someone whom I loved—or maybe still love, I wasn't sure—didn't bother him.

"Why—?" I gasped. "They didn't do anything wrong, especially Alice!"

It came out wrong, undignified, but I didn't care. I couldn't look at them die.

"They threatened our secrecy, the pair of them. The Cullens have been doing so for years, of course. This judgment is overdue," he mused, thin fingers dancing over the armrest once more.

His hands were mesmerizing. I wanted them over my skin again, petting and stroking until I was breathing rapidly, nearly incoherent, and his eyes were as black as they had been in the throne room.

I longed for him so badly, and I could not understand it. It was pathetic. Even accepting that I was only a pale shadow of his Didyme—the mysterious wife whom he loved so much—didn't seem unpleasant for a moment.

But it was lust. Maybe I was looking for a rebound. This was not _me_.

I couldn't believe that he didn't notice the confusion on my face.

"Edward is not your mate," he said casually, as though the revelation was only a passing comment on the weather. "If he was, I would not ask you to watch his sentencing."

Those two statements made my thought blur. First, I didn't believe him. I violently, viciously rejected the idea that Edward was not my mate. Secondly, the gentleness in his voice touched me. He cared for me, even if it was just a little, it seemed.

"Yes, he is," I insisted. "Mating bonds can't be broken."

For a second, Marcus looked almost amused. "Did the Cullens tell you that?"

"Yes. Vampires mate forever," I said. I bet I sounded like a school girl, proudly parroting an easy answer I had memorized from a book.

"Not quite, Isabella," he corrected. "Certain—ah—actions can weaken a bond, even sever it entirely. I don't imagine Carlisle would tell you about that. He is an idealist."

"What kind of actions?" I demanded.

"Oh, there are many," he sighed, wistful and handsome and lost. "Betrayal. Hurting a partner so excessively that there is no chance of recovery. Growing incompatibility. We are more human in that regard than you would think."

That made sense. Once, before I had completely fallen in love with Edward, the idea of being obsessively devoted to one person with no way out, no matter what they became, had seemed horrifying.

"Nobody talks about that," I murmured.

"We don't like to. There's an unspoken fear in all of us that our deepest loves will fall apart. It is not common, but then, not rare enough for our tastes," he said, calmly.

I liked the fact that he treated me like I was capable of understanding, not a child to be protected.

"But that's not what happened with Edward and me," I insisted. "I can still feel our bond." My love, although not as strong as before, was as fierce as the heartbeat under my skin. I was sure of it, no matter what Marcus' presence was doing to me.

"I can see ties _or their absence,_ Isabella," he said, with an unspoken _do not contradict me_ appended at the end. "In any case, we cannot discuss this further. Now you must come with me."

I rose obediently, and he brushed a hand over my shoulder. Once again, the touch unstitched me, filling me with fire that grew and grew.

"Among my brothers, you will be silent and respectful. You are a mortal, and least among us. Moreover," he paused, his eyes darkening to burgundy, then black, "you are mine. Your conduct reflects upon me. Is this understood?"

I shivered at his use of the term _mine,_ but I nodded.

I had learned one thing about this man—he wore two faces. One was patient, almost gentle, and he didn't mind treating me that way. The other was old and harsh, suitable for a ruler. I wondered which one was the mask.

I followed him, ready to hear Edward's fate.

* * *

><p><em>My lovely readers, thank you for your favourites, story alerts and especially reviews for the previous chapter. Your response helped me write this installment quickly. <em>

_Please let me know what you think about Marcus. Is he telling the truth about Bella's bond with Edward being broken? And what consequences should Edward and Alice receive or not receive?_


	3. Chapter 3

The throne room was made to be intimidating. I could see that now. There were narrow slits high in the walls, letting in only the barest slivers of sunlight. It was cold too, and I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing someone had told me to bring a sweater. Goosebumps covered my skin.

Marcus seemed oblivious to that. Something had changed in his posture. He stood so straight that it was almost military, and his features were stern.

I found myself enthralled and terrified at the same time. I had never seen anyone look so _immortal_, and it took my breath away. In comparison to him, Edward seemed unbearably young—and I felt even more insignificant.

When his eyes met mine, I found myself turning beet red. I always had an embarrassing habit of changing colour under stress, and I hoped that he wouldn't read anything into it.

With something almost like a smile, he said, "Stand over there." A bony hand gestured to an alcove almost behind the raised plinth where the thrones stood. "Remember what I told you about Caius's temper. If your input is required, we will ask for it."

I obeyed immediately.

A guard, tiny and female, walked over to Marcus and presented him with a set of black robes, lacking the fur-trimmed collar that I had begun to associate with him. The fabric was stiff and heavy, making him look even more remote. The Volturi, I figured, had all of their rituals in place for a reason—and this one was intended to give them a veneer of authority. While I watched him sit down on his throne, Caius swept in, already dressed in his robes. He remained coldly handsome, but the cruelty on his face continued to scare me. He didn't spare me a glance, and I was grateful, wiping my suddenly sweaty palms on the fabric of my dress.

Aro came in last, his smile bright and sharp. His arrival had an immediate effect on the guards. They practically scrambled to get into proper position in the shadows, moving as quickly and worriedly as children.

Power sparked in the air between the three brothers, and certainly settled in my stomach.

These proceedings weren't new for them, I realized. They'd been dealing with lawbreakers for thousands of years, and I bet that most of them had stories like mine. Being in love wouldn't save Edward, just like it couldn't save me.

The weight of all that time, and all of those deaths, crushed my shoulders.

"My dear ones," Aro said, addressing the dozen vampires scattered through the circular chamber, "I find myself in a difficult situation."

He waved his right hand, the silver ring on his finger catching the light. Far doors opened, and I heard heavy footsteps.

And then, I saw Edward. He was between two guards, but they weren't really necessary. His eyes were completely defeated, and he wouldn't have put up a fight even if there was an opportunity for one. His hair was wild, as though he'd spent all night raking his fingers through it nervously.

My heart hurt. I wanted to run to him and tell him that everything was going to be all right.

But I didn't want to go back to Forks with him. I nearly choked on that thought—_of course_ I wanted to go home, to go back to school and do everything that was boring and familiar and safe. But returning to the beautiful Cullen house, to be cooed over and dressed up—I couldn't bring myself to be excited about that.

And then I noticed Alice, walking in with Demetri at her side. She looked as frightened as I felt, but completely uninjured.

_Obviously_, my brain added. _Aro wants to add her to his collection. He's showing her hospitality. _

Completely undisturbed by the appearance of his prisoners, the thin vampire on the middle throne continued his speech, grinning like a happy cat.

"Carlisle Cullen is an old friend, with a great deal of respect for our laws. It saddens me that the son is nothing like the father." There was no real regret in his tone, but nobody seemed to care.

"Judge the seer first," Marcus said. "She committed no crime. There is no reason to keep her afraid."

Aro stood up and gestured, "Come to me, my darling Alice."

Her steps were careful, but still graceful, and I marvelled at my friend's ability to hold up under pressure. I wished I could be half as poised.

I didn't notice how hard I was biting my cheek until I tasted blood in my mouth. Horrified, I swallowed quickly.

The man in black robes took Alice's hand in his, closing his eyes.

"You have no idea how much I would like to offer you a place here," he began. "Your gift is such a marvel."

"And we are not here to evaluate it," Caius said coldly from his throne. "Did she know about Cullen's intentions to reveal himself here?"

"She did, brother. And she did everything she could to stop him—car theft, even," he said with a grin, and I found myself breathing in quickly, relieved. If Aro was being flippant, then Alice was probably close to being dismissed.

Hopefully. My hands were clammy with sweat again.

"Then we have no reason to imprison her," Marcus said decisively. "Alice, you will be free to leave shortly. We will provide transportation to America, if you should need it."

The little vampire looked like she was about to say something, but then she thought better of it, and took her place beside her guards, nervously fidgeting with her perfect outfit.

"Well, that was simple," Aro trilled. "The lovely Alice had only the best of intentions, and we cannot fault her for that, can we?" With a pointed smirk, he turned his gaze away. "Young Edward Cullen is another matter entirely."

Edward was dragged forward, roughly and horribly, and I immediately guessed that he was already guilty in the eyes of his executioners. They weren't even bothering to pretend, like they did with Alice.

"Now, my dear one, you must know that I am very sorry," Aro said. "You wanted to reveal yourself in my city—the city I have fought to protect for three thousand years. Breaking the law for your own purposes is unforgivable, but so flagrantly—no amount of good intentions could justify it."

His voice wasn't purring anymore. It became hard and biting, angry. Angrier than Caius, even, and more vicious.

I could see where this was going, and it hurt so badly. Edward didn't deserve to die. He just—he made a mistake, which needed punishment, but nothing this extreme. Esme and Carlisle's mourning faces danced through my head.

Caius smirked. "Then our course of action is clear. The boy's life is forfeit."

"It appears so," Aro agreed.

Edward wasn't even trying to defend himself. That apathy upset me so deeply. There was nothing he would fight for, it seemed—not me, not even his own life, or the happiness of his family.

And then, like an idiot, I ran forward, until I stood in front of the three thrones.

"Please," I said, my voice high and reedy. "Please don't do this. Don't kill Edward over something like this. It was my fault too, and—"

I paused, not knowing what else to say.

"You," Caius snarled, "are a child! Your opinion upon this matter is meaningless." He stood too, tall and thin and menacing. I cowered immediately, knowing how out of place I was.

"Brother," Marcus said, his voice tinged with menace. "You speak too soon. Edward has wronged Isabella as well. Her input is not unwanted."

The white-haired vampire rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't compare a lovers' quarrel to endangering our very way of life on a whim."

I was suddenly grateful for Marcus, for taking my side so quickly against his brother. If I had to face Caius alone, I would have backed down immediately.

"Peace," Aro soothed, looking at me closely. "Isabella, my darling, your words are curious. Do you not want this boy to suffer? Surely abandoning you for months demands consequences."

I could see what he was doing, appealing to my feelings which were still bruised and stinging, but I shook my head.

"He didn't break the law—he was going to, but he didn't," I insisted, almost tearful. "That must count for something."

I didn't dare look at Edward. Instead, I prayed that he would keep his mouth shut, and not say anything that would make his case look worse than it already was.

"Please," I continued, still desperate. "Let him go home to the Cullens. They'll keep him out of trouble. You can trust Carlisle—Emmett and Jasper can track Edward if he tries to leave again—he'll promise to never come back to Italy." I was rambling now, but pensive lines had formed on Aro's forehead, as though he was listening to me. Believing me, even.

"Isabella has a kind heart," he concluded finally. "And can we fault her that?"

Caius snarled, his opinion an obvious _yes_.

Then, Marcus spoke, calm and collected. Wise, even, and once again I was so very grateful. "Killing this boy would anger the Cullens. We do not want war with old friends. Besides, there is no need for us to simply grant Isabella's request out of kindness."

Suddenly, he stood before me. I didn't even see how he had gotten there, but my nose was flooded with his sweet scent, and I felt safer than I had before, although my heart was still racing.

"If we permit the boy to leave in peace, will you remain with us, Isabella?" he demanded.

I nodded mutely. Of course I would. Anything to keep the Cullens together. They couldn't bear to lose a son.

"And will you become immortal when we choose?"

That had never been a problem for me. I nodded again.

"And—" Marcus paused, so I knew that the worst was coming, "do you swear to sever your bonds with the Olympic coven? To never look for them, or contact them, unless specifically directed?"

My eyes swam with tears, and I felt the urge to curl up into a ball and cry. Not speaking with the people I had come to love was unbearable. I wouldn't even get a chance to say goodbye to Esme, Emmett and Carlisle, to hug Alice one last time, to apologize to Jasper and make my peace with Rosalie.

It was better than the alternative.

"Yes," I said, determined.

Marcus smiled, dark and deadly.

"If you change your mind, I will know," he said.

I heard the threat behind the words, and my skin crawled.

-oOo-

After the Cullens had left, equipped with plane tickets and instructions never to return, I found myself led to a small side-room. Marcus's hand was firm on my shoulder, though not ungentle. I knew he could feel me shivering, and I wondered if he cared at all.

Once we arrived in the chamber, he gestured to the couch, and I sat down. I had so many questions that they threatened to spill over in a sudden frenzy, but I bit my tongue instead. Aro and Caius were just coming in, and I knew better than to say anything in front of them.

Truly, I didn't know which one scared me more right now—Caius was cruel and Aro was so cleverly wicked that I couldn't predict his intentions.

"Can you not control a girl?" the pale man hissed, his voice on fire. I hoped that his annoyance would stay confined to Marcus, instead of turning upon me. I preferred to be thought of as insignificant.

"I instructed her not to speak, brother," Marcus said, dark-eyed.

I didn't know whether he was protecting me or voicing his disapproval of my actions. His voice was deep and inscrutable as a rule. I folded my hands and looked at the floor.

Caius was not appeased

"There is no room for her _hurt feelings_ in the proceedings of justice," he insisted, glaring at Aro balefully, ordering him to participate in the conversation.

The ancient steepled his fingers carefully, gazing at the roaring flames in the marble fireplace.

"Maybe, dear brother" he agreed. "But Didyme would have acted the same."

Once again, _she_ was mentioned. I didn't know anything about this woman, but it seemed that she was a ghost in everyone's memory. Aro talked about her affectionately, but—I couldn't begin to speculate about his intentions, but I caught the hints of cautious suggestion in his voice, as though he wanted to see what that comment would do to Marcus.

"Didyme was neither human nor a child," Caius interjected.

And suddenly, Marcus caught my hand in his. His skin was cold and smooth, but his touch made my heart beat fast in my ears. As always, he was gentle, but for the first time, his fingers lingered, tracing little circles with his thumb over my knuckles. It was almost as though he was trying to soothe me.

It was her name that sparked this, but I smiled at him shyly anyway.

Aro was grinning as well.

"We cannot condemn her for her—sentimentality," Marcus decided. "You would do the same for your Athenodora."

"You compare a girl you have known for two days to my mate?" Caius snarled, exasperated.

I was intrigued by the idea of a woman who loved Caius. She was probably as creepy as he was, but it was comforting to imagine that she existed. Maybe the comparison would make Caius pause for a moment.

"Very well," the white haired man said, clearly tired of the argument. "Listen to the opinions of a mortal and see how far that gets you." Before sweeping away, he looked at me closely and said, "You must remember that you too are a liability, Isabella Swan."

I said nothing in return, because really, he was right.

"Do not mind Caius," Aro said amicably, before walking away as well.

It was obvious that he agreed with his brother—he hadn't said a word to contradict him.

And Marcus—well, he stared into the distance, as though he was thinking of the past, and had forgotten that I was there altogether.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: My dear readers, I apologize for the long time between updates. I'll try and be a little faster with the next chapter. Please let me know what you think about this story so far. What do you think will happen to Bella next? And thanks so much for reading and reviewing. <em>


	4. Chapter 4

I couldn't remember the last time I had felt so lost. Even when Edward had left, ripping my heart out of my chest and taking it with him, I still had direction. Home, school, grocery store, library, repeat. There were things to do, and I wanted to seem normal for Charlie. Now, I had nothing. I could stay in my pretty blue room, where I was now, but that was it.

Wandering the castle was stupid to the point of suicide, and I wasn't going to ask Marcus, probably the only vampire I could trust to not kill me too painfully, to spend time with me. He was strange and sad, and being around him confused me and made my heart beat too fast.

Solitude it was, then.

I hung up my dark blue dress in the closet neatly, because I didn't want the ancient vampires guessing that I could be a slob. Instead, I found a bright yellow sundress that seemed more comfortable, but still a lot prettier than anything I was used to wearing.

As soon as I had it on, I heard a knock on the door.

"Come in," I said quickly, hoping my visitor could hear me.

Of course Marcus did. Immortal hearing—I tended to forget.

When he was inside my room, I found myself out of breath. It was embarrassing, and I hoped that he'd think of me as asthmatic rather than hopelessly infatuated. Still, he was darkly magnetic. Bewitching to look at, but not handsome in any classical way. I'd never thought that I'd be the kind of girl who was attracted to power, but the way he moved, sharp and lethal, was a delicious shock.

"You are sad, Isabella," he said, gently.

"I'm not, Master Marcus," I insisted, trying to smile. It came out too defensive.

He gestured for me to sit on a pale, powder blue sofa and settled beside me.

"You are," he repeated. "And I do not wish for you to be unhappy."

A thin hand, callused but tender, stroked my cheek. It was an awkward gesture, as though he was trying very hard not to hurt me and had forgotten how to touch a human. He didn't stop when I leaned into his palm, so starved for reassurance that I overlooked my confusion. What did he want from me, I wondered, and met his red eyes.

"You will feel better, in time," he told me. "True mates would be crippled by the notion of eternal separation, and here you are."

_Not crippled_, he implied. _Still breathing and thinking, not a crying heap in the corner_.

I bristled at the suggestion, remembering months of pain so acute that I could only pretend to be normal. I had lied to so many people about being fine, and even my best acting couldn't convince them.

"And mates would not leave each other voluntarily," he added, moving his hand to brush through my hair.

He was good at this, I thought, when his long fingers rubbed smooth circles on my scalp. Somehow, the fact that he seemed to like touching me—not talking about what a monster he was, or comparing me to lambs—seemed right. Like it had been something I had wanted and never had.

"So it's over? I'll be fine? Edward will be fine?"

My voice sounded shrill to me, even, but Marcus continued his ministrations, unworried.

"You, Isabella...I should think so. I will care for you." He paused for a moment, weighing his next words carefully. "Edward is another matter. My brothers worry."

"Why? What's he planning?" I said, worried.

Edward could be an idiot sometimes. Grand gestures were his favourite thing. Whether it was a birthday party, or some half-planned, life-endangering escapade in Volterra, he didn't do things half way. It would get him killed. And Caius definitely wanted that.

"Do not look so frightened, little one," he said, still gentle. His broad hands fell on my shoulders, comforting and cool. "If he does anything reckless, we can trust Carlisle to stop him. And if not, Jane is all too eager."

I had melted into his completely. He was so real, so solid next to me, and every brush of his skin on mine felt wonderful. Suddenly, excitedly, I wondered what kissing him would be like. He was doubtlessly skilled and patient.

But he'd be thinking of Didyme too, and I couldn't blame him. Among three thousand years of memories, I couldn't possibly be special.

"What should I do now, Mar—Master Marcus?" I asked quickly. I couldn't imagine being trapped in this room all day, with only books for company. I loved to read, but I had always had other activities.

He chuckled low in his throat, without amusement. "You, my dear Isabella, are mine, according to my brothers. And I unfortunately have no idea what you like and care for."

I was grimly fascinated with that word.

His.

_His._

What did that mean?

"Do you trust me, Isabella?" he asked.

I considered the question. He could rip through my skin like paper, using teeth or nails and a little pressure. If something happened to me in his care, nobody would come looking, and nobody would judge him. In this world, I'd only matter if I were his mate, which I wasn't.

And then, like a fool, I nodded.

He pulled me into his lap, with a vampire's speed, positioning me so my back was pressed to his chest and his arms could encircle my waist. I was held there, entirely shackled but not afraid, my breathing uneven and electricity in my blood. His fingers, still soft, trace circles on my belly, tickling and fluttering. When his mouth brushed my ear, I gasped. The quiet growl in his chest was the closest thing to laughter he could produce, and he seemed entertained by my over-reaction. I didn't care.

His lips nuzzled the junction of my neck and shoulder, and I shivered. The sweet nip of his teeth so close to my artery terrified me—one mistake, one _deliberate _slip, and I'd be dead on the floor in a few minutes.

Marcus sunk his teeth in, just a little, his dark hair falling onto my shoulder.

It didn't hurt. That was my first thought—I had anticipated so much pain, but there was very little. A bite like this couldn't kill me, and he was being cautious. I couldn't even feel a sting of venom. Behind me, Marcus was purring. Heavy, contented sounds left his throat as he lapped the blood off my skin, savouring it like fine wine. One of his arms was still tightly encircled around me—fiercely protective and constricting at the same time, while the other hand petted the my collarbone sensuously.

While he drank the small amount of blood spilling from me, he murmured gently into my skin. I couldn't catch the words, and they probably weren't in English, but the fascination in them made my pulse jump and my skin hot.

In another few moments, every one of my breaths came out shivery. Disappointingly, just then he lifted his head from my shoulder, neatly cleaning the blood away with his tongue and examining the wound.

"You taste delicious," he told me, matter-of-fact. "And you enjoy my touch."

I couldn't deny either of the accusations. He set me on fire, and even though I knew this was wrong, I would allow him to do it, though it couldn't end well—eventually he'd be too thirsty, or I'd be too weak—but the sticky desire, the high of being wanted and claimed was worth it.

"Now, you will carry my scent," he said. "Everyone will understand whom you belong to. Incidentally, my dear, that will permit you to roam the castle as you please."

He said it so matter-of-factly that I wondered if this was a common arrangement for him. If all the vampires of Volterra had a pet human whom they drank from, a human so enslaved by the bliss that slowly dying didn't bother them.

"Does...does this happen often?" I asked.

"Very few have the control for it," he said. "But everyone will understand the nature of this exchange."

I didn't know how to interpret that. Before I could ask anything else, he lifted me onto my feet.

"Come, my Isabella. We must find you something to eat."

Trustingly, I let him lead me out of my room for the first time, full of questions that I didn't know how to ask.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: This chapter is a little short, but it sets up the next one, which will be longer. Please leave a review before you go- I've received so many alerts and favs from all of you, and now I'd like to hear what you're thinking. <em>


	5. Chapter 5

My days in Volterra began to adapt to a rhythm. A member of the guard, usually a shy, brown haired girl named Renata, brought me breakfast, and then I was left to my own devices. After a while, I figured out that mornings were when the Volturi conducted their… whatever it was they did. The pale scar on my neck where Marcus had bitten me and drank my blood had its intended effect. Nobody ever questioned where I was going within the castle, and the guards either ignored me or stepped out of my way.

On most afternoons, Marcus would spend time with me. I didn't really understand why he was willing to hang out with a human. I wasn't the most interesting conversationalist, and I kept pretty quiet, knowing that if I began talking, all my questions would spill out. Occasionally he touched me, a quick brush of fingers over my cheek or hair. It could be considered casual or curious, nothing more and yet it still made me feel like I was on fire. Once, I even considered offering my blood to him, just to experience that overwhelming rush of sensation again.

I didn't recognize my thoughts sometimes. All I felt these days was uncertainty and want.

-oOo-

One morning, a few days later, I woke up to bright beams of sunlight and the gentle pressure of hands on my shoulders. The caress was cool and I arched into it contentedly. Marcus's touch never failed to make my heart race, and I knew that he could hear it.

"I see you are awake, Isabella."

I recognized his voice immediately. It was warmer than usual, as though he was amused by my completely shameless appreciation. I sat up lazily, my smile wide and soft. I probably looked silly but I couldn't bring myself to care.

"Good morning, Master Marcus," I said.

"You sound happy today," he said, looking at me curiously from where he was sitting at the edge of my bed.

"It feels like the beginning of a good day," I murmured, still a little giddy.

"Perhaps," he agreed. Before I could ask why he was waking me up personally, he said, "There is someone who wants to meet you. You may recall that Caius has a mate."

"Athenodora?" I stumbled on the pronunciation of the name.

"Precisely. She is quite curious about you."

"Why? I mean, I'm not that interesting." I certainly had nothing that would intrigue an ancient vampire, who had probably seen hundreds of more compelling people.

"I see no harm in humoring her request," he said. "I consider her my little sister, and I'd do greater things to make her happy."

Very gently, he pushed me down onto the bed. It was exquisitely soft beneath me and I relaxed, feeling completely safe. Marcus untangled the sheets from around my legs, leaving me in my shorts and tank top, with nothing else separating my skin from his. With a sigh, he pressed his lips to my ankle, brushing a fluttering kiss over the round little bone. My nerves suddenly sparked to life and I moaned hungrily when I felt the scrape of his teeth.

"Such an eager little human," he purred. His voice had taken on that deep, heavy tone that accompanied his thirst. So very slowly, he kissed his way up my leg while I squirmed and my breathing grew ragged. His mouth was wonderful, lingering on the sensitive spots of my flesh. My back arched helplessly as I tried to find a way to move closer to him, to prolong contact in any way.

"Hush, my Isabella," he murmured, his cool breath delicious on my inner thigh. "If you thrash, I may hurt you and neither of us would want that."

I nodded mutely, desperately, and then he sank his teeth into my skin. Pain and pleasure rushed through me in waves that wrung me out and turned my mind black. This was something different than sex, something darker and more dangerous. I could only lie there and gasp while he fed, clinging to the feeling and praying that it would never end.

After he was done, he raised his head and wiped away a little blood with gentle fingers. "The pleasure you take from this is truly extraordinary," he said, lost in thought. I wondered why he decided to feed from me today. Maybe it was because I'd be seeing other vampires, and he wanted to remind them and me whom I belonged to, or simply because he wanted my blood and my reactions.

I foolishly wished it was the latter.

I didn't know what to say to him, so I remained still until he nudged me in the direction of the bathroom.

-oOo-

"Is Athenodora absolutely terrifying?" I asked, as I walked down a long corridor, beside the tall, dark-haired vampire. I began feeling foolish the instant the question left my lips. What could Marcus say? He clearly valued loyalty to his coven, and he wouldn't speak ill of the woman who was practically his family even if she was horrible.

He almost smiled.

"She is not like Caius, if that's what frightens you," he said lightly. "And she is a better companion for you than most here."

I didn't know how to interpret that, so I stayed quiet, waiting to meet this vampire who had suddenly taken an interest in me.

Marcus steered me to a small chamber in the middle of the castle. It must have been a sitting room of some sort, but it was beautiful just like everything else here. The ceiling was painted a deep shade of blue and speckled with silver stars in the shapes of constellations, and antique furniture was scattered around the room. Curled on one of them and pressed close to Caius was easily the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

She had the same translucent skin as all of the ancients and her features were impossibly elegant. Long, pale blonde hair spilled over her shoulder in perfect waves and even seated, I could tell that she was tall and graceful. The dress she wore was one of those slinky designer pieces that only looked good on magazine pages and apparently, her.

I couldn't decide whether to be jealous or more scared than usual, although some snarky corner of my mind wondered what Caius had done, or what secret skills he had to score a mate that hot.

"Satisfied?" Caius murmured to Athenodora, giving me a disdainful glance while stroking his mate's hand.

"First I have to meet the girl," she said. Her voice was gorgeous, just like the rest of her.

"Call me if she bores you," the white blond vampire said, standing up and brushing a quick kiss over Athenodora's hair. She tilted her head and caught his mouth instead. For a second, they looked like a regular couple instead of ancient demons. Kind of cute, really.

"Done," she agreed, giving him one last smile while he left.

"Hello, brother. And this is the famous Bella, I see. A pleasure," she sang, gesturing for me to sit down. Feeling more pigeon toed than usual, I picked a chair across from her. She and Marcus exchanged a few words in Italian, and then he disappeared, leaving me completely alone with this shockingly beautiful vampire.

"Thanks, um, you too," I said, my fingers tangling in the fabric of my dress. "I don't really know why you're interested in meeting me…" I added, before realizing how awkward that sounded.

"Because nobody would give me a straight answer about you. Aro finds you interesting, Caius does not like you- it's not personal, he doesn't like most people- and Marcus won't tell me anything," Athenodora replied. "So I decided to find out for myself."

I gave her a worried look. She wasn't a Cullen, I reminded myself. There was no way she'd like me without a good reason. Besides, she was probably comparing me to a thousand famous and beautiful historical figures that Marcus could have pursued instead.

"You resemble Didyme," she said finally. "Not in the extreme, but you do." She sounded softly sad.

"I'm really sorry," I mumbled. I knew that trait had saved my life, but it had to be painful for this vampire to see an imperfect copy of someone she'd clearly loved. "Do you know… could you tell me what happened to her?" I asked, stumbling on every word and fearing rejection.

"We do not know. That's the tragedy of it, really," Athenodora said. Her eyes were wide, but it seemed that she was examining a memory instead of looking at me. "During a fight with a nomadic Egyptian coven, Didyme was killed. Who did it and how remains a mystery. By the time we regrouped, there were no opposing survivors, and Didyme was already ash."

"That's terrible," I said. Suddenly, Marcus's possessiveness made sense. He probably lived in fear of losing everyone he was close to after experiencing something like that.

"It is. As you can imagine, the lack of closure impeded Marcus's recovery."

"Will he mind that I know?" I didn't want to pry in his closely-guarded secrets. Part of it was fear of his reaction, but I also thought that he deserved his privacy regarding someone he'd loved so deeply.

"The facts themselves are common knowledge," she said. "You could find them in any of our histories in the library.

"Thank you," I said, grateful that she'd answered my questions so directly. My voice must have quivered, because Athenodora immediately leaned over and patted my hand gently.

"You needn't be so frightened. Marcus is not a cruel man," she told me.

I really wanted to believe her. Heck, she was probably right, from her perspective. Or she was completely crazy and comparing everyone to Caius.

"I just don't know what he wants from me," I said quietly.

"That I cannot say. All vampire couples are different."

"I don't think we're a couple." Our relationship was… well, I couldn't even describe it. Mutual confusion was probably the most accurate definition of it.

"He has not been this interested in anyone for two thousand years. I can say no more." Athenodora said this gently, without a hint of teasing, and I believed her.

"You're really helpful. I mean, wow, I wasn't expecting that." I couldn't believe I just blurted that out. It was almost rude. I had to fight that the urge to clamp a hand over my mouth and apologize.

"I must confess that I didn't have high expectations of you either. I met Carlisle a few centuries ago, and he was insufferably self-righteous then. I couldn't imagine the potential mate of his favorite son being any better." Her laughter was so bright, like bells, and I realized that I was beginning to like her.

My mouth adjusted itself into a smile. Somehow, it felt nice to hear that Edward hadn't' scarred me for life in some terrible, noticeable way.

"That bad?" I asked. I really wanted to hear about Carlisle's life in Volterra. I'd built up the Cullens to be completely perfect in my mind, and I wanted to adjust the image for accuracy.

"Yes," Athenodora said. For a moment, she fell silent, weighing her words, then she grinned at me. "Oh, very well. I guess I'll gossip within half an hour of meeting you. When Carlisle was with us, he became infatuated with Aro's mate. You'll meet Sulpicia soon, and she's very beautiful, so I'll concede that he had good taste. Still, among our kind, it's unspeakable to pursue someone else's mate."

"What happened?" My eyes were probably round as teacups. It was so hard to imagine the saintly Dr. Cullen wanting anyone besides Esme.

"Aro found it harmless at first, but soon he grew jealous. Male vampires are incredibly possessive, you'll find out if you haven't already. So, he challenged Carlisle, giving him the choice between fighting and leaving. The fact that he continues to live tells you which option he took."

"That's different from the way Edward told the story." I wondered whether Carlisle had lied to his son, or whether my former boyfriend had heard the truth and just told me his preferred version.

"Oh?" She tilted her head curiously.

"He made it sound as though Carlisle left for moral reasons. He didn't want to feed on humans, you know? And that Aro desperately wanted him back." That was all that I remembered from that discussion I'd had the first time I was in the Cullen house.

"That's wonderfully predictable," Athenodora said. "The Cullens, in my experience, are more hypocritical than they seem. I know it must be difficult, hearing me speak ill of those you love, but you deserve to hear the truth."

I was beginning to understand that, but all I felt was anger. I hated the fact that I had been taken advantage of by a teenage vampire and his family, who didn't want to be honest with me because I was human, or because they didn't care. Still, Athenodora was calming to be around and I talked with her easily until Marcus reappeared.

She waved a friendly goodbye to me as I left. "We must do this again sometime," she said, and I smiled, tentatively deciding that I'd made a friend.

* * *

><p><em>AN: My dear readers, I'm sorry for the long amount of time it's taken to update. Your reviews definitely encouraged me to continue. Thanks!<em>


End file.
